


nothing better worth imagining

by kiyala



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-16
Updated: 2015-01-16
Packaged: 2018-03-07 19:51:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,112
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3181061
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiyala/pseuds/kiyala
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Courfeyrac meets Combeferre on a flight to London.</p>
            </blockquote>





	nothing better worth imagining

**Author's Note:**

  * For [annaroserae](https://archiveofourown.org/users/annaroserae/gifts).



> This is a birthday fic for my dear [Anna](http://annaroserae.tumblr.com/), who I love dearly. Happy birthday!!
> 
> Art is by the lovely and talented [Sas](http://batcii.tumblr.com/)! It was a privilege working with you!

His name is Combeferre. He's a year and a half older than Courfeyrac and is quite possibly the most beautiful person in the entire world. It's not something that Courfeyrac thinks lightly and it only has a little to do with his broad shoulders, brown skin and the dark tattoos curling down his muscular arms. 

They're sitting next to each other on the plane from Paris to London and they don't top talking the entire way. Courfeyrac is a friendly person by nature and he makes a conscious effort to be as open and approachable as possible. Even so, he doesn't think he's made friends with someone so quickly and so easily since he met Enjolras, almost twenty years ago. It's kind of a big deal. Right now, he wants nothing in the world more than he wants to keep Combeferre, and introduce him to Enjolras. 

In any other situation, with any other person, it's something that he'd already be joking about— _we're officially best friends now, just so you know. I can't wait until you meet my other best friend, Enjolras_ —except none of that comes out. Combeferre, with his kind smile and his nervous habit of adjusting his glasses when he feels that he's been talking for too long, is utterly disarming in a way that Courfeyrac doesn't know how to deal with. He's soft-spoken, he's intelligent and he's intimidating, perhaps in the way that other people are intimidated by Enjolras. Unfortunately in this case, Courfeyrac doesn't have the natural immunity to it the way he does from growing up with Enjolras. Smalltalk is easy, because he's good at that. He's good at listening, and he's good at encouraging other people to open up. 

Combeferre has a sister in London that he's visiting for the week, while Courfeyrac is just going for a break and to challenge himself to travel alone for once. He's cheating a little, because he's already been to London before with Enjolras and they've gone to all of the tourist sights already. This time, he just wants to take things slow, enjoy himself and focus more on actually relaxing instead of constantly being on the move.

When he says as much to Combeferre, he gets a warm laugh and an understanding nod. "I've never been one for holidays where you're always rushing from one place to the next. I mean, I _love_ exploring and learning all about the places I visit, but I'd prefer to do it in my own time."

Courfeyrac grins, nudging Combeferre with an elbow. "Somehow, that doesn't surprise me at all. It suits you, I think, to be patient and thorough."

With an embarrassed smile, Combeferre adjusts his glasses again. "I have to say, that's a pretty accurate description of me. Though I would have thought you'd be the type to enjoy seeing as many people, places and things as possible."

"I really am," Courfeyrac replies. "It's just that sometimes, I need a break from that. Don't get me wrong, I doubt that I'm going to last a day before I call my best friend back home. Or I'll go find someone else to bother, like I am with you."

"Hey," Combeferre says seriously, holding Courfeyrac's gaze. "You're not bothering me. This is… good. I like talking to you."

Courfeyrac smiles, feeling his cheeks burn. "Same here. Talking to you is fun."

Leaning closer, Combeferre lowers his voice. "I'll tell you a secret, and this is a big one, because I never admit to it under normal circumstances."

Courfeyrac nods solemnly. "I'll protect it with my life."

Huffing out a quiet laugh, Combeferre says, "I'm scared of flying." 

"Really?"

"You have no idea how nervous I get, just from being on planes." Combeferre grins. "I usually can't survive flights without a book and music loud enough to drown out the engine. Except you know what? We sat down, you started talking to me, and I haven't needed anything else. I'm still a little uneasy, sure, but I'm not _scared_. Thanks to you."

Courfeyrac beams. "I'm glad that I could help."

"I'm glad I'm sitting next to you," Combeferre murmurs. He's still leaning close to Courfeyrac, but this feels comfortable. It hasn't even been two hours since they've met and Courfeyrac is already content to sit here, their shoulders touching as they talk.

Combeferre has just recently finished his doctorate in biomedical science and he tries to explain what he does and what his thesis is about, and he manages to simplify it down well enough for Courfeyrac to understand that it's about the neuromuscular connections and the immune system. It's clear that Combeferre is passionate about it, that he wants to make a difference to people's lives. Courfeyrac talks about his own work at the law firm and how he and Enjolras work together to take on as many cases as possible for people who don't have the money to pay for representation. 

They talk until the plane lands and Courfeyrac notices the way Combeferre's voice wavers as the plane touches down, but doesn't comment on it. They hang back, letting most of the other passengers off the plane before they go, walking together to the baggage claim.

Courfeyrac still hasn't managed to figure out a way to keep Combeferre in his life, his courage disappearing every time he tries to ask for Combeferre's contact details. He still hasn't figured out how he's going to do it by the time they both collect their suitcases and start walking towards Customs and he's frustrated with himself because this shouldn't be so hard, especially not when he can usually do something like this without a problem.

Except them Combeferre clears his throat, slowing to a stop. Courfeyrac turns to him with a small frown. 

"Combeferre?"

"I don't usually do this," Combeferre tells him. "Actually, I never do this, so I don't really know _how_. So forgive me if I get this all wrong but—maybe, when we're back in Paris, we could get coffee? Or dinner? Or… I don't know. I'd like to be friends with you, Courfeyrac. It kind of feels like we already are."

"Friends," Courfeyrac declares, smiling hard enough to hide his disappointment about the fact hat he's hoped Combeferre was asking for something _else_. 

They exchange emails addresses because neither of them have their London numbers yet. They don't make any promises to catch up in London and Courfeyrac doesn't expect it either, knowing that Combeferre is here for his family. As they get through Customs and out of the arrivals gate, Combeferre spots his sister and niece waiting for him. He and Courfeyrac part ways, promising to catch up later. Courfeyrac tries not to watch him disappear into the crowd, feeling ridiculous about missing him already.

—«·»—

Courfeyrac's hotel has a beautiful view of the city and it's comfortably sized, with a double bed and a plush lounge chair. He unpacks his bag, because living out of a suitcase never feels right to him, then goes exploring to reorient himself with the city.

He immediately goes out to buy himself a temporary SIM card and calls Enjolras as he walks around the city. It's early afternoon in Paris and Enjolras answers immediately.

"Hello? Courfeyrac?"

Courfeyrac chuckles. "How did you know it was me?"

"An unknown number, calling me two hours after you were due to land? Don't tell me you're missing me already?"

"No, but I have news!" Courfeyrac declares. "I mean obviously I also miss you, but _news_ , Enjolras!"

"Already," Enjolras says warily and Courfeyrac honestly can't blame him for sounding concerned. He's found trouble much quicker in the past, and the same can be said for most of their friends.

"Not bad news, exciting news!" Courfeyrac assures him. "I found our new best friend."

"I wasn't aware that we were looking for one," Enjolras replies and Courfeyrac can tell that he's frowning. "How did you make _best friends_ with someone in London so quickly? The distance is going to make things a bit difficult, isn't it?"

"He's not in London. I mean, he _is_ , but he's from Paris too. I was sitting next to him on the plane. All I could think about was how much the two of you would get along. His name's Combeferre and he's really great. We exchanged email addresses and—hey! Do you think that I should email him my number while I'm here? I mean, he's visiting family but maybe…"

"Well, it wouldn't hurt," Enjolras replies. "You might as well. If he doesn't have the time, then he doesn't have the time. But if he does, then he'll let you know and I think that's worth it."

Courfeyrac grins to himself, loving the fact that Enjolras knows him well enough to know when he just wants someone to encourage him to do what he wants. "Yeah, you're right. Thanks, Enjolras."

"So there's no point in asking how your flight was," Enjolras says, sounding amused. "Have you had lunch? How is your hotel room?"

"Calm down, Enjolras, you're not my real dad."

"No, I'm better," Enjolras replies, not missing a beat. He sounds pleased when Courfeyrac snorts with laughter. "I know that I can't really talk because I get easily distracted when I'm busy, but please make sure that you're eating regularly."

"I will, don't you worry. I'm scoping out the cafés near my hotel as we speak." 

There are a few that look nice. Nothing quite like the Musain back home, but it's an unfair comparison when it's so dear to Courfeyrac due to the memories he's made there with his friends.

"Jehan wanted me to remind you to take lots of photos," Enjolras tells him. "Even if it's just photos of the cafés you've been to."

"I can definitely do that," Courfeyrac replies. "I'll put so many pictures up on Instagram that you'll feel like I never left."

"I'm perfectly fine with that," Enjolras replies. "The apartment is quiet without you."

"Aww, Enjolras, I miss you too."

"Clearly, if you're calling me already. Oh wait, sorry, it's because you had _news_ about your new best friend."

"My _other_ best friend," Courfeyrac corrects. "He's not replacing you. He's going to be your best friend too, just you wait."

"Is he aware of this?" Enjolras asks, laughing quietly.

"Not yet, but it's fine. He'll get it once he meets you. I just know that you're going to get along right away. And you know what I'm like about not wanting to hype thing up in case they disappoint you."

Enjolras chuckles. "Okay. I look forward to meeting him, then. Hopefully, you'll see him before you're both back in Paris."

"Hopefully," Courfeyrac echoes and if the longing that he feels creeps into his tone, Enjolras is kind enough not to mention it.

"I'll let you get back to exploring." Enjolras tells him. "I'll talk to you later, alright? Email your number to Combeferre. Have fun."

"I will. Talk to you later," Courfeyrac replies, pulling up his number as soon as he hangs up, copying it into an email to Combeferre. He checks the email address twice, just to make sure it's correct, then types out, _Hi! This is Courfeyrac! :) Just thought I'd give you my London number, in case you're free sometime over the next week. If not, I'm sure we'll catch up back in Paris. Have fun!_

He puts his phone back into his pocket and forces himself not to check his emails as he continues walking through the city, making a winding path back to his hotel room. He's taking photos of his room and view for Jehan and his other friends when his phone buzzes, a notification at the top of his screen informing him that he has a message from an unknown number. He nearly drops his phone in his excitement to check it.

_Hi Courfeyrac, this is Combeferre. Thanks for your number and for our conversation during the flight. I look forward to more of them. I'll definitely let you know when I'm free but I'll warn you now that my niece is clingy. If I'm unable to see you until we're back in Paris, it definitely isn't by choice._

Clutching his phone to his chest, Courfeyrac beams up at the ceiling, his stomach doing strange flips. He very nearly calls Enjolras again just to update him on how things are going, but resists the urge. Barely.

He distracts himself instead by going over his list of the places he wants to visit while he's here. His main priority is to wander the museums in London, taking his time the way he couldn't when he last visited with Enjolras. He wants to spend _days_ going through them and he's tempted to text that to Combeferre, just for the sake of starting a conversation, but he deletes it once he types it out, worried that it looks too much like an invitation when he knows that Combeferre will be too busy to take him up on it.

Instead, he sends Combeferre a text about trying to decide what he wants for dinner. It takes Combeferre a while to reply but he does, sparking a slow but enjoyable conversation about the benefits of rice versus pasta that Courfeyrac doubts he would enjoy half as much with anybody else.

Combeferre's last message for the night is, _Oh, looks like Uncle Henri has to go and read bedtime stories. Knowing me, I'll probably fall asleep halfway through reading it. Good night._

Courfeyrac waits a while before replying, so that Combeferre has most likely put his phone down and walked away to read to his niece. Then, Courfeyrac sends, _Sleep well xx_ , before putting his phone away and lying in bed, too giddy to actually sleep.

—«·»—

Courfeyrac spends two days exploring the British Museum to his heart's content before he moves on to the Natural History Museum. He and Combeferre and text each other here and there, sharing random thoughts, asking each other's opinions on various books and films. Courfeyrac is thrilled by the fact that a lot of their opinions seem to align, even if they're expressed differently. Courfeyrac is loud and passionate while Combeferre is quiet but equally firm with what he believes in. Once they get started on politics, it only becomes clearer that they're well-matched, and Courfeyrac becomes even more excited at the prospect of introducing Combeferre to Enjolras.

It also makes Courfeyrac impatient to see Combeferre in person himself. The more they talk, the more Courfeyrac is convinced that Combeferre is actually perfect. Courfeyrac is no stranger to developing low-key crushes on his friends, because they're all wonderful people and he admires each and every one of them in their own way. Except his crush on Combeferre is steadily becoming difficult to ignore, especially when it was never all that low-key to begin with. He decides to mark the realisation with a phone call to Enjolras. He's standing in front of a museum display on evolution as he takes his phone out. Then he looks up and promptly freezes.

At first, he thinks that he's seeing things, that maybe he's just pining so much that he's just seeing what he wants to. It wouldn't be the first time over the past two days that he's seen a man with broad shoulders and an undercut and thought it was Combeferre.

Except this time, Courfeyrac is _certain_. That's Combeferre's blue coat, those are his glasses, and that's his familiar smile as he looks down a a girl who is wearing a Spider-Man costume and a blue tutu, with white sequinned shoes. She's holding onto two of his fingers tightly with her tiny hand. If Courfeyrac thought he had a crush before, he's beyond hope now.

There's a lady with them who resembles Combeferre so closely that she must be his sister, and she's watching them fondly as Combeferre crouches down to read the plaque in front of an exhibit to his niece. Courfeyrac drags his gaze away, heart pounding in his chest. In any other situation, he'd walk over and say hi, but he doesn't want to intrude.

He's about to walk away when he hears Combeferre's voice call out, " _Courfeyrac_?"

Turning around, Courfeyrac finds Combeferre walking toward him, his niece still holding onto his finger.

Combeferre gives him a tentative smile, like he isn't sure that Courfeyrac would remember him. "Hey."

"Combeferre! It's good to see you again." Courfeyrac wouldn't be able to keep himself from beaming if he tried. "Is this your niece? She's gorgeous!"

Combeferre smiles down at her. "Deepika, say hello."

"Hello," she says in English, looking up at Courfeyrac. "What's your name? How old are you?"

"I'm Courf—ah, Sebastien. I'm twenty four."

"Oh, Uncle Henri is bigger than you.

Courfeyrac laughs softly, raising his eyebrows at Combeferre. "Yes he is."

"Henri?" his sister joins them, giving him an expectant look

"Oh—yes. Courfeyrac, this is my sister, Ashika."

"Courfeyrac," Ashika repeats, looking at Combeferre with a small grin. "As in, Courfeyrac from the plane."

"Yes," Combeferre replies quietly, and the fact that he's told his sister about Courfeyrac is—good. Definitely a good thing, Courfeyrac decides, hoping that Combeferre can't hear his heart pounding. 

"What are the chances of running into you here, of all places?" Ashika smiles warmly at him. "Deepika loves coming here with Henri whenever he visits. You should join us."

"Ashika," Combeferre says, looking embarrassed. "I'm sure Courfeyrac has better things to do."

"Not really," Courfeyrac replies honestly. "I mean, I'd love to join if you don't mind…"

"We'd love you to," Ashika declares with a smile, giving Combeferre a pointed look. "Wouldn't we?"

"I don't want you to get bored," Combeferre tells him quietly. "I mean, we're just going to be taking Deepika around to have a look at all the exhibits. I really wouldn't blame you if you wanted to look around the museum at your own pace."

"Do you _want_ me gone?" Courfeyrac asks, raising an eyebrow.

"No," Combeferre replies immediately. "Not at all. I'd love for you to join us, I'd just hate for you to regret it."

"I won't," Courfeyrac tells him. "Trust me, I won't."

Nodding, Combeferre gives him a small smile. "Okay. If you're sure."

As they walk around the museum, Courfeyrac has no idea why Combeferre was so worried about him getting bored. Combeferre reads all the exhibit descriptions out to Deepika and then gives her additional information off the top of his head, no matter what the exhibit is. He knows about marine life, about birds, about dinosaurs, about rainforests, about space. Courfeyrac listens to him with awe, standing with Ashika, who looks amused.

"I'm sorry, my little brother is a huge nerd."

"He's amazing," Courfeyrac breathes, unable to look away from Combeferre, who is currently carrying Deepika to give her a closer look at the display cabinet they're in front of. He blinks, his brain catching up to his mouth, and turns to Ashika. "I mean…"

"Oh, I know exactly what you mean," Ashika replies with a smirk.

"Do you, now?" Courfeyrac asks, trying his hardest to keep his tone neutral.

"Deepika, Henri, it's nearly lunch time," Ashika calls out. "Courfeyrac's joining us for lunch."

"Yeah," Courfeyrac replies immediately. "Wait, what?"

"Deepika, come and hold Amma's hand for a while," Ashika says, holding her hand out and smiling as Deepika runs over to take it.

"Sorry," Combeferre says, falling into step with Courfeyrac as they walk towards the museum café.

"What for?" Courfeyrac asks. "I liked listening to you explain things to Deepika. You know a lot."

Combeferre smiles, looking embarrassed. "I like reading a lot. Whenever I bring Deepika here, I want to make sure that she learns a lot. There aren't many people who would let me ramble for this long without getting bored."

"Their loss," Courfeyrac shrugs. "You're pretty fascinating."

If anything, Combeferre looks even more embarrassed, but Courfeyrac catches an approving grin from Ashika, so he supposes it can't be all that bad. 

They crowd around a small table to eat while Ashika and Combeferre take turns feeding Deepika, who is more interested in the playground than her food. Combeferre manages to get her to sit still by telling her a story while he feeds her, but as soon as she's done, she's out of her seat and running towards the playground. Ashika sighs, finishing her food and getting up.

"I'm going to keep an eye on her. She's not going to have the energy or attention span to stay at the museum once she's done playing, so I'll take her home. Henri, you can stay here with your friend. It was nice to meet you, Courfeyrac."

"Ashika—" Combeferre begins, but she's already walking away. He turns to Combeferre with a smile, clearing his throat. "I'm guessing this is a silly question, but would you like to explore the museum together…?"

"Not a silly question, just a very obvious one," Courfeyrac says, grinning. "I'd love to."

Combeferre walking around the museum without Deepika isn't too different to how he was before, except this time he actually cites his sources. Courfeyrac seriously considers starting a list of things he didn't think he'd find hot until Combeferre did them. He's completely beyond help.

They spend another two and a half hours at the museum and at this point, Courfeyrac isn't even surprised to discover that they both like the space and dinosaur exhibits the best. 

"I wanted to be a palaeontologist when I was young," Combeferre says. "I don't even remember the number of times I got in trouble for digging up the backyard. My parents eventually hid my shovel and told me I lost it. I could believe it because my room was always a mess, but from then on, I always made sure to put everything in its right place so I wouldn't lose anything again. They eventually took pity on me and bought me a spade a few years later, but I'd already been given my first kids' chemistry set by that point and was much more interested in permanently dyeing everything blue."

Courfeyrac laughs loudly. "I don't know what's more amazing, the story itself or the fact that I can very easily picture a miniature version of you actually doing all of that. When I was young, I wanted to be a dragon. I kept kidnapping my sisters' dolls and setting fire to things. My mother did her best to keep the matches out of reach, but I've always been a very determined person. I was very good at climbing."

Laughing, Combeferre shakes his head. "And here I thought Deepika could be difficult."

"Say what you want about me, but I have always been good at keeping people on their toes," Courfeyrac grins. "…So, I was thinking that we could get coffee somewhere that isn't as crowded or expensive as the café here."

"Coffee sounds good," Combeferre replies. "And… a little necessary, actually. I've been up since six because Deepika decided it was playtime. As you can probably tell by now, I'm pretty helpless against cute people."

Courfeyrac's eyes go wide and he laughs, nudging Combeferre with an elbow. "Smooth."

Looking pleased with himself, Combeferre nudges Courfeyrac in return. "Come on, you were saying something about coffee."

They find a small café and crowd into a corner booth. Courfeyrac takes the opportunity to sit beside Combeferre instead of sitting on the opposite side of the table. Combeferre smiles at him, their sides pressed against each other.

"So, I'm pretty sure you've already worked it out," Courfeyrac murmurs, once they're both halfway through their cups of coffee, "but I'm going to go ahead and say it."

"Oh?"

"I like you," Courfeyrac tells him, because he's always favoured the direct approach. "Obviously as a friend, but I also like you in that heart-fluttery, grin-into-my-pillow way."

"I made you grin into your pillow?" Combeferre asks quietly, and he's smiling. "When?"

"Oh, you know, every single time I thought about your texts yesterday," Courfeyrac says casually, even though he can feel his face heating. "Or you in general. No big deal."

"I don't know," Combeferre says slowly. "That kind of sounds like a big deal to me. But you know, you make my heart flutter too. And there might have been some grinning into my pillow. At least once."

"I'm going to kiss you," Courfeyrac decides, but then Combeferre immediately freezes up. "…Or not."

"Maybe not." Combeferre's voice is quiet, and there's an edge of panic to his expression that makes Courfeyrac's heart sink.

"Look, Combeferre, we don't have to—" Courfeyrac falls silent as Combeferre's phone starts ringing and he picks it up with shaking hands.

"Hey, Akka," he greets, and Courfeyrac can hear Ashika's voice on the other end, though he can't make out what she's saying. "No—no, we're not doing anything at the moment. Yeah, I'm about to head home. It's fine. I'll see you soon."

"Combeferre," Courfeyrac says, more urgently this time. 

"I'm sorry." Combeferre doesn't look at him, getting to his feet. "I shouldn't have—I'm sorry."

Courfeyrac watches him go, wanting to chase after him but knowing that Combeferre wouldn't appreciate it, and definitely wouldn't appreciate the scene it would cause. He looks down at his coffee cup, trying to make sense of what just happened, but he can't. It doesn't make sense and Courfeyrac wishes he could at least be angry about it, but he's just confused and a little heart-broken instead.

—«·»—

"You mean he just walked away?" Enjolras asks over the phone, as Courfeyrac paces his hotel room.

"Yeah. I mean, he apologised beforehand, but… I actually think that makes things worse?" Courfeyrac rubs the back of his neck and sighs heavily. "I fucked up, but I'm not sure what I did wrong, Enjolras."

"It sounds to me like _he_ was the one who fucked up here," Enjolras says firmly. "He's the one who just up and walked away. His loss."

"I don't want it to be his loss," Courfeyrac replies. "Or _anybody_ 's loss. I want to fix this, but I know that I shouldn't be pushing things right now. I just wish that he'd call me, or text me. Even if he doesn't want to kiss me, or date me, or whatever, I still want to be _friends_ with him. He's such a great guy, Enjolras."

"I want to believe you," Enjolras tells him, "but I'm also very angry at this guy right now."

"I'm sure he has his reasons."

"And I'm sure you're being too forgiving." 

Courfeyrac sighs again. "Maybe. But I like him, Enjolras. I _really_ like him. I just wish I knew what I did wrong, or what it was that freaked him out. You should have seen the way he froze up—it's like I just suggested something terrible, even though he _just_ told me that he—"

"Courfeyrac," Enjolras says firmly. "If you tell me that you're crying right now, I will personally fly over to London and hunt this bastard down."

"I'm not," Courfeyrac replies, wiping his eyes. "I'm _not_ , and you're not allowed to hate Combeferre, okay? I mean it when I say that you're going to be best friends. If he still wants to talk to us." 

" _Courfeyrac_ …"

"I'm fine." It's a lie, it even sounds like a lie, and they both know it. Courfeyrac sucks in a shaky breath, waiting for Enjolras to call him out on it, but he doesn't. 

"Okay," Enjolras says quietly. "What are you going to do tomorrow?"

"Maybe go to the Science Museum," Courfeyrac hums. "I did want to check out a few bookshops too."

"That sounds good," Enjolras says encouragingly. "Just spend the day focusing on yourself and doing the things you enjoy, okay? Don't think about Combeferre."

Courfeyrac tries, he honestly does, but he when he wakes up the next morning, he isn't in the mood to go to the Science Museum because thinking about it makes him think about how much better it would be if he was going with Combeferre, and that just makes him want to stay in bed and sulk.

He eventually drags himself out of bed, grabbing the book from his bag that he brought with him in case he wanted to read on the plane. It's not raining today, so Courfeyrac takes advantage of the pleasant weather to find a bench to sit on and read in the nearby park. 

It's a good distraction for a while, but there are so many people around that Courfeyrac can't help looking up when they walk near him, and every time he looks up, he finds himself hoping that he'll see Combeferre. He gets increasingly frustrated with himself for it every time and eventually, he gives up on sitting outside. He considers taking his book to a café, but then cafés make him think of Combeferre too and he ends up wandering around the city restlessly, not quite sure what he wants to do.

It's late afternoon when he finally finds himself wandering into a secondhand bookshop, hoping that browsing the shelves will at least lift his mood a little. He's always liked the atmosphere in bookshops, the endless potential contained in every single book and this particular shop _feels_ magical from the moment he steps into it because the walls are lined with shelves, there are even shelves that follow the arches between the shelves, leading further into the shop, all of them stuffed with so many books that they barely fit. It almost looks like a personal library from a fairy tale rather than an actual shop and Courfeyrac wanders through it in awe, looking everywhere except for where he's going.

He bumps into someone and stumbles, instinctively reaching out. He's caught by the arms, keeping him upright and he looks up, eyes going wide when he realises that it's Combeferre.

"Oh," he says, his heart lodged somewhere in his throat. He's steadied himself now, but neither of them are letting go of each other. Combeferre is staring at him, eyebrows drawn together. Courfeyrac smiles warmly. "We have _got_ to stop meeting like this, Combeferre. It's good to see you, though."

"Is it?" Combeferre's voice is soft, unsure, but he doesn't drag his gaze away from Courfeyrac. 

"Yeah." Courfeyrac takes half a step closer, smiling tentatively when Combeferre doesn't step back. "I was hoping I'd see you again. I was hoping we'd be friends, even if you don't want—"

" _Courfeyrac_ ," Combeferre sounds pained. His hands settle on Courfeyrac's shoulders, and they're trembling again. He tenses again, looking like he wants to lean in. 

Suddenly, Courfeyrac understands. He takes the lapels of Combeferre's jacket into his hands and tugs him a little closer. "…Combeferre, I really want to kiss you."

"I want to kiss you too," Combeferre breathes. 

Smiling, Courfeyrac tugs again, pulling Combeferre down until their lips meet in a soft kiss.

"Oh," Combeferre breathes into the space between their lips as they pull apart. 

"Did I just give you your first kiss?" Courfeyrac asks. 

Combeferre kisses him again briefly. "My second, too. I just… never really made time for people. Maybe I should have but—"

"It's fine," Courfeyrac tells him. He stands on his tiptoes, kissing the corner of Combeferre's mouth. "It's perfectly fine."

"Oh." Combeferre's thumb strokes the side of Courfeyrac's neck. "Good."

They kiss again, until they're both smiling so much that they can't kiss any more, content to stand there, foreheads resting against against each other. Combeferre has his eyes shut, shoulders rising and falling as he takes deep, even breaths, and Courfeyrac smiles to himself. 

[](http://batcii.tumblr.com/post/108255184593/nothing-better-worth-imagining-by-kiyala-for)

"My sister doesn't know," Combeferre says at length, "that I'm gay. I never told her, because it was never… relevant. That's why I ran yesterday. I'm sorry." 

"It's okay," Courfeyrac reassures him. "We've sorted it out. I know it can be difficult. But for what it's worth, I think she'll understand."

"Yeah." Combeferre sighs, pulling Courfeyrac close again. "I've never told anyone. I don't know what I'm doing. I'm—not good at not knowing what I'm doing."

"You're doing great," Courfeyrac tells him. "I've got you."

"I'm going to tell Ashika," Combeferre decides, as they finally pull apart. He bites his lip. "Will you come with me…?"

"Of course I will." Courfeyrac takes Combeferre's hand and squeezes gently before pulling away. Except then Combeferre reaches for his hand again, holding onto it firmly. Courfeyrac smiles at him. "We don't have to…"

Combeferre squeezes Courfeyrac's hand. "I want to."

They leave the bookshop as the owners begin closing up, holding hands as they walk down the street and to catch the tube. They hold hands as they stand beside each other on the train and Courfeyrac keeps catching Combeferre watching him with a small, incredulous smile, like he can't quite believe this is real. 

"Just up this street," Combeferre murmurs, once they get out of the station at his stop. He tightens his grip on Courfeyrac's hand. "I'm sure Ashika will be fine…"

"I know she will," Courfeyrac assures him. "Your sister loves you."

Combeferre nods, but he still looks nervous. Courfeyrac doesn't try and convince him any further, knowing that he'll see for himself soon enough. 

"Amma!" Deepika's voice calls out, "Uncle Henri is home! He brought his friend!"

She's standing on the balcony, jumping up and down as she waves at them. Combeferre laughs quietly, waving back, and Courfeyrac does too. 

Ashika opens the door for them, Deepika jumping out through the door to hug Combeferre around his legs in greeting. She looks up at them. "Amma, Uncle Henri is holding hands with his friend."

"That's his boyfriend, sweetie," Ashika replies, looking up at Combeferre. "…I was hoping you'd bring him home." 

Combeferre blinks in surprise. "You knew?"

Ashika snorts quietly. "Was it meant to be a secret?"

"No," Combeferre sighs, he turns to Courfeyrac, a smile tugging at his lips. "I was just… worried for no reason."

"Exactly. You had absolutely no reason to be worried at all," Ashika tells him firmly. "Come here."

Combeferre goes, wrapping his arms around his sister gratefully and hugging her tightly. 

She pats his back loudly, then reaches an arm out to Courfeyrac. "You too."

"Me too!" Deepika declares, latching herself to Combeferre's legs.

Combeferre laughs, wrapping an arm around Courfeyrac as well, hugging him tightly. 

"I told you," Courfeyrac murmurs, as Ashika and Deepika pull away, leaving the two of them with their arms around each other. "You have nothing to worry about. You're loved. You're doing great."

"We'll be inside," Ashika says, tugging Deepika along with her.

Combeferre nods, turning to Courfeyrac once they're alone, and pulling him into a deep kiss. They wrap their arms around each other, kissing again, unwilling to let go of each other until Ashika yells for them to get inside and help her get ready for dinner, informing them that Courfeyrac is staying. 

They laugh as they pull apart, stealing one last kiss before slipping inside.

**EPILOGUE**

"Remember the rules," Courfeyrac says, tapping his foot impatiently. "You're not allowed to fight with him."

"I'm not angry at him any more," Enjolras replies, shrugging. "You've been smiling non-stop for the entire two days you've been back and that's some kind of record, even for you. I'm willing to forgive him for panicking. Especially now that I know why." 

"You promise?" 

"I promise," Enjolras nods. "Now, remember _your_ rules."

"No yelling," Courfeyrac recites, "no crying, no public declarations of love."

"Good." Enjolras laughs softly, watching the steady stream of people walking out of the departure gate. "Now—"

" _Enjolras_ ," Courfeyrac gasps, grabbing his arm. "That's him. _Combeferre_!"

Enjolras sighs. "Here we go."

Spotting Courfeyrac, Combeferre waves, walking over with his suitcase behind him. Courfeyrac side-steps the people in front of him, running towards Combeferre, tackling him in a hug. By the time Combeferre's arms are around him, Courfeyrac's cheeks are already wet with tears.

"I missed you," Courfeyrac kisses Combeferre's cheek. 

"It's been two days," Combeferre laughs softly, but presses a brief kiss to Courfeyrac's lips despite the crowd of people around them. 

"I missed you anyway." Courfeyrac sniffs. "How was your flight?"

"Nowhere near as enjoyable as the one to London," Combeferre replies, wrapping his arms around Courfeyrac. "The anticipation managed to drown out the nerves, though. I missed you a lot, too."

"I love you," Courfeyrac blurts, then claps a hand over his mouth. " _Fuck_."

Laughing, Combeferre rests their foreheads together. "I'm pretty sure I love you too. Even if you broke all your rules."

"Enjolras warned you," Courfeyrac sighs. 

"He did," Combeferre nods. "But, you know. As I said. I love you anyway."

**Author's Note:**

> Title from Burning Bridges by OneRepublic


End file.
